


Resistance

by Andwill



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Anxiety, Crazy, Death, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff, Ghosts, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Guilt, Hallucinations, Haunting, Home Invasion, Insomnia, Medical School, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Sad Clarke, Sad with a Happy Ending, Violence, much sadness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:47:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7234369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andwill/pseuds/Andwill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke Griffin was the victim of a ruthless home invasion that left her wife (Lexa) dead. Two years have passed, and she begins having vivid hallucinations of Lexa. Is she going insane, or is Lexa real?</p><p>AU Clarke is a bit out of her mind and Lexa is an ambiguous creature of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, not sure why I started this since I'm working on another but I couldn't get the idea out of my head so I wanted to get it started.
> 
> Warning: The first chapter is intense, there's a scene where Lexa dies (but she's very much apart of the story). It also touches on suicide, mental illness, and PTSD. The other chapters will likely not be as intense, or as depressing, but I wanted to warn everyone. 
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys! Let me know what you think. I'm new to tumblr but feel free to hit me up on there too: http://andwill.tumblr.com
> 
> Inspired by Greek Mythology (Persephone/Alcestis), 'What Dreams May Come', some Sylvia Plath poetry, and Shakespeare. Basically a giant melting pot of all of the things I love combined into a (hopefully) badass story. :) 
> 
> I name my fics after Muse songs.
> 
> Note: I do not own 'the 100' or its characters. The story is a messed up creature from my mind though.

The students in the classroom had their eyes set forward; some were probably asleep, most just wished they were as their eyes glazed over from the stale lecture Professor Moore was giving, and then there was Clarke who had rolled out of bed not even five minutes ago.

 

“Ah, good afternoon, Miss Griffin, so glad you could finally join us,” the professor actually snorted like a bull, her nostrils flaring in disgust as Clarke barreled into the classroom like the disaster she is. _“Damn my two left feet,”_ she uttered under her breath.

 

Clarke felt herself turn various shades of red as the rest of the class slowly turned their heads to silently judge the girl who could never show up on time. She sighed, stumbling ungracefully into her seat while tugging at the clasps on her backpack to pull her books and pencils out. The professor’s lips were pursed as she impatiently waited for Clarke, and she knew that the professor was trying to make point.

 

_The world does not begin and end with you, time stops for no one, so stop wasting mine._

 

When Clarke had finally finished turning to the correct page in her book the professor inhaled sharply and shook her head. “Now that the princess has settled in, shall we begin again?” The words were laced with indignation as the professor spat them out, her holier than thou persona shining bright as she stood up on her podium that Clarke was positive was made of gold.

 

Not all professors were this way, most of the professors had been respectful and understanding. This woman though, she was imbued with hate and loathing, her anger bubbled up to the surface every time Clarke appeared, late or not. She wondered what it was about her that made this particular professor want to run her into the ground, but she tried to ignore it. Tried to ignore the awkward glances and the judgmental half smiles that people tried to pull off as reassuring. It was a vain attempt but it was just enough to push her through until the end of the class when she could finally breathe again.

 

_Just pass this class, Clarke. You can't risk losing everything you have worked so hard for, do not let your intelligence go to waste. This is your dream._

 

The voice in her head was always there, like a parasite that had embedded itself in Clarke’s ear and wouldn't let go. It was a voice she couldn't bear to hear but she also couldn't bear to lose it. It was her lifeline, it kept her floating with her head just above water. Every time her head dipped back under, the voice was there to pull her back up into the world that she desperately wanted to escape from.

 

Tears pooled in her eyes as the last sentence echoed in her ears. “ _No, Lexa, you were my dream. You are my dream.”_ She shook her head at herself, feeling incredibly out of her mind.

 

The sun was setting and the clouds were gray, hovering above her ominously. The rain would come soon and it would bring a pleasant distraction from the pain she endured if only for a few moments. Clarke took a deep painful breath as her feet slowly pounded the cement. Even, methodical steps that she counted so that she wouldn't think of anything else. It helped, but she couldn't stop. Each block was about 200 steps, except for the block her apartment was on - that block was about 300 steps. Her therapist had suggested counting as a way to relax, little did she know it would soon become an obsession.

 

Clarke lived on campus, close to her classes and to her friends. She thought it would help, the closer to her classes the less likely she was to be late or miss them entirely. It worked, for awhile, then it didn't. Her friends would harass her incessantly - they would drag her out of bed, throw rocks at her windows, take her to therapy sessions. And that worked too for awhile, then it didn't. Clarke had completely walled herself off. She was a small patch of grass surrounded by a hot, airy desert. There was no water, no food, no company, just her. Barely existing. Barely holding on to the last strands of her life that were beginning to unravel from the friction of her haunted past.

 

Her friends still tried, occasionally. They would check in on her, probably to see if she had died locked away in her musty apartment. Clarke was sure that they would eventually find her cold, lifeless body curled up in the fetal position, clutching on to the last pieces she had of her heart.

 

_You can't live like this, you can't torture yourself. Hurt, feel pain, cry, scream if you have to, but just… be. Be here, be alive. Live, Clarke._

 

“I _am_ here,” Clarke muttered under her breath, answering the voice in her head. “I'm here, but I don't want to be. I'm existing. I'm wasting oxygen just waiting for the day I fade away.”

 

Clarke blinked tears out of her eyes as she walked into her barren apartment. No one had been inside of it for over a year, except for Clarke. She had sold everything, including furniture, with the exception of Lexa’s pillow and a stuffed animal that had belonged to her as a child. Although two years had passed, Clarke swore she could still smell Lexa on her pillow, and sometimes she wished she could just melt into her scent and never come back.

 

The rain on the sheets of metal above her apartment echoed throughout her small space, coming down fast and hard like bullets. The precarious metal sounded like it was bending inward with each rain drop. Clarke slid open the patio door and sat down on the drenched, hard surface beneath her as the rain enveloped her in its wet embrace. The rain had become her companion - it hid her tears, her soft whimpers that choked out from her throat when she saw Lexa’s face, it numbed her aching body and helped her escape from the hell she was living in.

 

Clarke laid back against the wood and closed her eyes. Her shirt acted as a sponge, absorbing all of the rain, becoming heavy like a weighted blanket. She counted the rain drops that landed on her fingers, and when she lost count she would start over. _Focus on the counting. Breathe in, out, in, out._ The cool air skimmed across the exposed parts of her body and left her skin tingling as she slowly became numb. She was so tired, and the relief the rain brought was just soothing enough to help her drift away. Lexa’s voice in her ears was muffled, the cold air combined with the rain had caused her ears to go numb. Clarke smiled, imagining the air was Lexa’s breath, and suddenly she was transported back. Back to when life was simple, good, and filled with dreams. But life ends, and dreams are broken, and Clarke can't feel anything but the rain hitting her eyelids.

 

* * *

 

“Holy shit, Clarke!” Harsh footsteps trampled through the apartment to where Clarke was lying. Knees dropped to the ground next to her causing the wood beneath to crack and bounce slightly. Clarke slowly rotated her head in the direction of the sound and opened her eyes, they were burning, heavy, _cold._

 

“Jesus, Clarke, you're ice cold,” Abby choked, her voice cracking around the lump in her throat. “We need to get you inside, now.” In one swift move, Clarke was in her mother’s arms being carried as if she were still an infant. The contact made Clarke melt against her mother, she closed her eyes again as she rested her head in the crook of Abby’s neck. Her scent was comforting, she smelled like _home._

 

Abby gently laid Clarke down onto the sheet-less mattress that rested on the floor. She kneeled next to her daughter, breathless. When she tried to speak the words only came out as sputtered groans, her throat was closing in on itself, constricted by the unshed tears. Tears rolled unbidden down her cheeks leaving streaks of red in their wake. The wet clothes that were stripping the body heat away from her body were peeled off quickly by Abby. When they were completely removed she disappeared then returned with a large t-shirt, sweatpants, and a fleece blanket. She sat down next to Clarke, dressing her with ease as if she had done it a thousand times, and she probably had.

 

As Clarke peered up at her mother who was heartbroken for her, she knew. She knew her mom wanted to scream, wanted to wail, wanted to shake her daughter and ask her why she was doing this to herself. Why she was doing this to her family. Clarke wouldn't have answers and Abby knew that too. Abby slid onto the bed next to her, wrapping her arms around her daughter, pulling her in tightly against her chest while simultaneously wrapping a blanket around her. The cold had caught up to Clarke who was now shivering furiously against her mom, her teeth chattering with such force she thought they may shatter.

 

Abby rested her forehead against her daughter's and sighed deeply. She closed her eyes when she exhaled and rubbed Clarke’s back in slow circular motions. Her mother's scent and the slow rise and fall of her chest as she inhaled and exhaled lulled Clarke into a light sleep. She felt safe, she felt loved, and she wasn't alone.

 

As the darkness swept in and took hold though, they came back. _Lexa._ Fierce, green eyes haunted her dreams. Her voice screaming in terror, Clarke’s own screams echoing hers as her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets in fear. She locked eyes with her as the man plunged his knife into Lexa’s stomach. Her head felt like it was going to explode, her lungs wouldn't respond, her legs buckled underneath her as she fell to her knees. _Lexa, no, God no, kill me instead._ Clarke had begged the man, pleaded with him to end her life too.

 

He couldn't though. He fell over alongside Lexa, a blade firmly planted into the base of his spine. Lexa had ripped the knife out of her stomach and had used it to kill the man. Next to the man laid Lexa, crumpled with her hand clutched to her side, not moving, not breathing.

 

Clarke screamed, a breathless, noiseless scream that took all of the energy she had left. She collapsed further onto the ground, her arms going completely limp. She tried to reach for her cell phone to call 911 but her body just _wouldn't fucking respond._ Clarke was in a free fall, her head spinning, she choked back vomit as she tried to grab the phone from her pocket again. With great effort she slid the phone up her side and swiped it to access the emergency tab, when the operator first picked up all Clarke could manage were sobs. Strangled, breathless, devastating sobs.

 

“Honey, can you talk to me? Talk to me, tell me what's happening. Is anyone hurt?”

 

 _“Lexa,”_ she croaked, “ _Lexa,”_ and it was all Clarke could say. As if Lexa was the only word she knew. As if Lexa was her entire world, her entire universe, because she was.

 

* * *

 

“CLARKE!” Abby yelled while shaking her daughter’s shoulders. “Clarke, wake up, come back! You're having a nightmare!”

 

Clarke jolted, her body lurching forward with so much force it knocked Abby away from her. Her eyes were nearly completely black, filled with so much horror that the sight left Abby breathless. The love of her life had been murdered in front of her, but not before Lexa had saved Clarke’s life. The moment replayed itself in Clarke’s dreams every night, preventing her from sleeping, from healing, from living.

 

“Lexa..” Clarke stuttered, confused “where's Lexa?!” Her words were a whisper as the fear gripped her throat. Abby leaned in and held her daughter tightly against her, rocking her back and forth while gently whispering “shh” in her ear. “Mom… I…”

 

“Shhh, I know, honey,” Abby whispered, still rocking her daughter. She didn't know though, she knew she would never understand. Abby could never comprehend the pain that Clarke felt, because it hadn't happened to her. She desperately wanted Clarke to heal, but she was terrified that would never happen. She was terrified her daughter was irrevocably broken, a shell of a person, lost.

 

Clarke cried softly into her mother’s shoulders, “I can't sleep, mom. I'm so tired.”

 

Abby nodded in response, unsure of what to say. Clarke had tried every sleeping medication, every antidepressant, antipsychotics, she had even spent time in psychiatric units. Nothing had stopped the nightmares, and Abby felt utterly helpless.

 

“I think.. I think I'm going insane,” Clarke sighed and rolled onto her back, putting an arm over her eyes so she didn't have to see her mother’s anguished expression.

 

“Clarke.. You're tired. Not sleeping can make your mind do funny things.”

 

“Mom, no.. I can't, It's so hard to describe. I wake up in the middle of the night and she's there. Sitting in my bed, looking at me. I reach out and touch her and… she's _real._ But then she disappears. It happens all of the time,” Clarke shakes her head, tears streaming down the side of her face, into her hair. Abby watches the tear drops hit the bed slowly below her and sighs.

 

“I hear her, everywhere. In my head. It rarely goes away, the only time it fades is when I'm cold… Really cold,” Clarke mutters.

 

“Clarke… You need help. I think you might.. you might want to consider going back to the psychiatric hospital. I think a lot of this is caused by your inability to sleep, your nightmares. The doctors there can help you but it takes time.”

 

Clarke wanted to sink into the mattress. She didn't want to talk to her mom about it, but she needed to tell someone. Anyone. Hell, a homeless person would have worked right at that moment. She had tried the psychiatric hospital, for a month. It didn't do a damn thing to help, so Clarke pretended all was well and left.

 

The hallucinations - they felt real, too real. They had only begun recently, within the last few weeks. She had felt her… touched her, felt her warmth and it was all too real, she couldn't have imagined it. Maybe she really was going crazy, she couldn't function worth a damn anymore. Everything felt blurry, out of place, a fog had settled in her brain and it wasn't budging or shrinking, it was expanding to the point where it was overflowing out of her ears.

 

“Mom,” Clarke sighed, “you're right, I'm just really exhausted. I need to sleep, I can take ambien for a few nights and maybe it will help this time,” she flashed an unconvincing smile to her mother who just blinked a few times and remained silent.

 

After a long moment Abby let out a puff of hot air. “I'm going to stay here for tonight. Maybe longer, I don't want you to be alone,” Abby said.

 

Clarke wasn't fond of the idea but she didn't have the energy to argue with her mother so she simply nodded.

 

“Clarke…” her mom whispered softly, her voice shaky.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Why are you trying to kill yourself?”

 

The question stunned Clarke. It was expected, she wasn't surprised, but then she was. It was something Clarke could clearly see simply by looking in a mirror. Her once curvy, toned frame was now gaunt. Her eyes were sunken in, cheekbones emerging from her face like they were trying to escape. The extreme lack of sleep, the inability to to eat without becoming nauseous, it had left Clarke’s body in ruins.

 

“I'm… I don't know,” Clarke muttered honestly.

 

Abby’s voice wavered as it broke through tears, “is that what you want, Clarke? To die? Because that's what's going to happen if this continues and I… I can't watch you die, Clarke. I love you. So many people love you.”

 

“I don't know,” Clarke replied again, her words whispered under her breath. It was the most honest she had been in a long time, because she truly couldn't understand herself anymore. This woman who was once so sure of everything was now crumbling into pieces.

 

The soft light of the lamp reflected off of Abby’s tears and Clarke felt a pang of guilt. “I want to move on,” she whispered. “I've tried. I'm always trying, every second of every day I force myself to breathe, to just exist.”

 

Abby nodded and brushed stray strands of hair out of Clarke’s eyes. “I'm here for you, Clarke, always,” she whispered as she leaned forward to kiss Clarke’s forehead.

 

“I know, mom, thank you. But.. why did you come over? You haven't been here in so long.” Clarke was always at her parent’s house, not the other way around. She didn't want them to see how desolate her apartment had become.

 

“Raven and Finn were concerned about you, they've been blowing my phone up with texts and calls for the past three days. They said that you hadn't been at class, that you wouldn't answer the door or answer your phone,” Abby sighed and closed her eyes. “Raven apparently managed to break into your apartment yesterday but you weren't home. And tonight… your door was unlocked so I just walked in and saw that the patio door was wide open.”

 

Clarke snorted, of course Raven would go that far. “I was painting last night. The university has an amazing studio, as long as I bring my own supplies I'm welcome to use it.” Clarke shrugged, it was the truth. She found solace in painting, and the art studio at the university was always quiet late at night. The security guard had become friends with Clarke and would let her know when they were about to lock up for the night, sometimes he would even wait an extra thirty minutes to let her finish up. He never complained, but she did catch him sneaking peeks at her paintings occasionally.

 

These days, the guard was the closest thing she had to a friend. She didn't want to be around anyone who had known about what had happened. Clarke’s few close friends tip toed around her - they had a difficult time communicating because they felt they were always walking on egg shells. At any given moment, Clarke could crack, and her friends didn't want to be responsible for the fallout that had ensued. So, they kept their distance while attempting to remain close at the same time. It was an awkward dynamic that made Clarke want to move somewhere where no one knew about her or her story.

 

“I'm glad you still enjoy painting,” Abby smiled. “How are your classes going?”

 

Clarke groaned, “horribly,” she muttered.

 

“Can you be more specific?”

 

“I have three classes this semester. I'm doing okay in two of them with B’s. The third, my genetics course, I have a D in.” Having a D meant she was failing. Anything below a B meant she would need to go in front of the progress board to explain herself. Clarke was already on academic probation, she would be kicked out out of med school if she failed any more classes. The board had been reasonable and understanding due to what had happened, but they were beginning to lose their patience and Clarke knew there would be no third chance.

 

“Clarke, I’m not entirely sure that you could get into a residency program. Have you considered going in a different direction? Maybe a physician’s assistant? There isn’t as much school, it’s less strenuous…”

 

She knew her mom meant well, but it was a slap in the face. “I want to become a doctor, mom. I _need_ to become a doctor. I need to save people. I couldn’t save Lexa… but maybe I can save others.” Tears pooled in Clarke’s eyes, it was an uncontrollable reaction that happened every time Lexa’s name was mentioned.

 

Abby sighed, “Clarke.. you’ve been admitted into a psychiatric hospital, you’re dealing with mental illness right now and you’re just.. You’re not coping. You’re falling apart. I think med school is simply too much for you at this point.”

 

Clarke shook her head, “I know you mean well, but this isn’t what I need right now.. Maybe you should leave, I can call Raven to ask her to come over instead if you don’t want me to be alone.” She buried her head in Lexa’s pillow so she wouldn’t have to meet her mother’s disappointed eyes.

 

“I don’t know if that’s a great idea, Clarke… I think I should stay for now.”

 

Clarke could feel her temper rise to the surface swiftly and without warning, “Why? So that you can continue to tell me how much of a failure I am? My wife died. She was murdered right in front of me by someone who wanted our fucking tv. Lexa lost her life.. because of a fucking tv. I’m doing my best, I get enough shit from the people at school, I don’t want to add my mother to the list of people I can no longer stand to be around.” She clenched the blanket in her fists and she knew her face was bright red, anger had ignited her blood and she felt like she was about to spontaneously combust.

 

Abby took a deep breath as tears streamed down her eyes, “I’ll call Raven, I’ll leave when she arrives.”

 

Several moments passed in silence before Clarke took a deep breath, “Mom… I’m sorry, I don’t mean to lash out I just… it’s not helping. It isn’t. I know I’m doing horribly, I beat myself up about it constantly. I promise you I’m my own worst critic, I’ve thought of other options, I’ll keep thinking about it, but I need to make the decision on my own.”

 

Abby nodded and rubbed Clarke’s shoulder before sitting up to grab her phone so that she could call Raven. “Go back to sleep, Clarke. We can talk more tomorrow.”

 

Clarke’s head was throbbing from the amount of conversation that had occurred that night. She wasn't one to converse these days, she preferred her bubble of solitude, away from the judgment and pitying looks.

 

_Abby loves you, Clarke. Let her be your mother. She wants to feel needed and loved just as much as you do. She hurts too, Clarke._

 

“Mom,” Clarke reached up to grab Abby’s elbow who looked back at her with a confused expression. “Stay. Please, I'm sorry.”

 

A small smile tugged at the corner of Abby’s lips. She didn't respond, she didn't need to, she stood up to turn the lights off and made sure the door was locked. The mattress dipped as she climbed into bed next to Clarke, holding her, rocking her, stroking her hair. “Thank you,” she whispered.

 

Clarke rested her head on her mother's chest, counting her even heartbeats. One, two, three… on and on, until she drifted away into a restless sleep.

 

* * *

 

A cool, slender finger traced designs on Clarke’s exposed hips. Slowly the finger inched up, gliding gracefully along the dips and curves of her body until they reached her neck. Clarke groaned, tossing over in her sleep, “it's cold,” she whimpered, eyes still closed.

 

More fingers joined in, caressing her face, following the line of her jaw. A shiver ran through Clarke, “Lexa, I'm ti…” then the realization hit her and her eyes sprung open, blue meeting green. Clarke’s breath got caught in her throat, tears fell without warning, and her entire body trembled. “You're not real,” she whispered shakily. Her vision began to blur from the amount of tears that were pouring from her eyes, “you're not real, you're dead, and I'm completely fucking crazy,” she shook her head then clenched her teeth so hard that they made a sharp grinding noise.

 

She remembered that her mother was there, she turned around quickly to try to grab her, shake her, force her to wake up so she could confirm that Clarke was crazy. Her mom wasn't there though, _shit._ She must have gone to the other bedroom.

 

Clarke took a deep breath and slowly turned back around, desperately hoping Lexa was no longer there, but also hoping she was. Her heart hammered loudly in her chest, her ears felt as if they would burst from the throbbing sensation. Clarke let out a choked sob when she met Lexa’s eyes again. The trembling of her body graduated to full on violent body shakes, she couldn't control it as every muscle, every bone in her body reacted the same way her mind did.

 

Lexa pulled Clarke close to her and wrapped her in a tight embrace, “Clarke, take a deep breath,” she whispered, Clarke could feel her breath against her neck and she let out a choked sob.

 

“You're dead. You're dead,” Clarke repeated over and over again as she slowly relaxed in Lexa’s arms.

 

“Shh,” Lexa whispered. Clarke buried her face in Lexa’s long brown hair, inhaling her scent. It felt real, too real, and she was suddenly dizzy with all of the scents and sounds coming from Lexa.

 

“Lexa,” Clarke cried, “I miss you… So much. I'm so lost.”

 

“I know, I'm sorry,” Lexa’s eyes were wet, shining like emeralds. She lifted her hand up and placed a finger under Clarke’s chin, tilting her head up to meet her gaze.

 

Clarke leaned in and pressed her lips to Lexa’s, at first their lips gently brushed together, then it became more intense. Clarke climbed on top of Lexa, straddling her at the waist. She wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and plunged in to kiss her again, violently, passionately. Their teeth clashed as their tongues intertwined. _The taste, her tongue, her moans._ She bit Lexa’s lower lip, tugging on it gently with her teeth and a sense of euphoria rushed through her when Lexa whimpered in response.

 

 _“Lexa,”_ Clarke sobbed as she pulled back, panting from the incredible kiss they had just shared.

 

Lexa lifted her hand to stroke the side of Clarke’s face, brushing tears away with her thumb.

 

“This is just a dream, isn't it?” Clarke said hoarsely through her tears, “why does this feel so real?” She placed her right hand on Lexa’s chest, over her heart. Another soft sob escaped her lips when she felt her heartbeat pounding beneath her fingertips. “I saw you.. I.. you were dead, Lexa. I saw you die, I saw you at the funeral, I watched them lower you into the ground,” each word came out slowly, whispered as tears poured down her face.

 

“I'm here now,” Lexa whispered as she slid her hand behind Clarke’s neck, pulling her down until their lips met again.

 

Clarke licked and sucked on Lexa’s bottom lip, trying to commit everything to memory. Her taste, her tongue, the way her lips molded so perfectly to hers. She trailed her fingers up Lexa’s body, moving from her hip, up over her toned abdomen, soft barely there touches, savoring every inch of skin. When she reached Lexa’s breasts she moaned into Clarke’s mouth, causing both of them to grind their hips against each other.

 

 _“Lexa.. How..”_ Clarke whimpered softly as she felt herself soak through her sweatpants.  _God, it had been so long._

 

Lexa moved her hands to Clarke’s chest, just above her breasts. She gently pushed up to break the contact. “Clarke, it's complicated and.. I do not have much time.” Lexa blinked and tears rolled down her cheeks.

 

“I don't understand. Any of this I just.. I need to touch you. Please.” Clarke figured that this was a hallucination, was sure of it, but in that moment she didn't care. She could feel her, taste her, _love_ her right in that moment and it felt so right. In these moments, Clarke’s pain was just an afterthought.

 

Lexa closed her eyes and swallowed hard, when she opened them they were filled with unfathomable pain. “I wish I had time.. Clarke, I love you. I love you so much.”

 

“You're my life,” Clarke choked, each word cracking as she tried not to completely lose it. “Please don't go. I love you, Lexa. I'm dying without you,” she sobbed as she laid on top of Lexa, burrowing her head into the crook of her neck. She pressed soft kisses along her neck, over and over again.

 

“I know. Please, Clarke. You need to take care of yourself, you need to sleep, eat, _please._ I'm begging,” her hand moved to the back of Clarke’s head as she stroked her fingers through her long blonde hair. She tilted her head and gently kissed Clarke’s forehead.

 

“Will I see you again?”

 

“Yes,” Lexa replied instantly.

 

“When?”

 

Lexa sighed and shook her head, “I can not say. Soon, probably. Please promise me that you will take care of yourself.”

 

Clarke’s breath was shallow, the never ending waterfall of tears had caused her headache to only intensify. _Nothing makes sense, I'm so fucking crazy._ Finally, she nodded. “I'll try, I can only promise that.”

 

Lexa took a big breath, relieved. “Clarke… I need to go. I should not have come, but I had to.” She tilted her head down to meet Clarke’s gaze and Clarke lifted her head slightly. They both leaned into each other at the same time, their lips conjoining in a soft kiss. When Lexa pulled away a sob escaped Clarke’s throat.

 

“Clarke, please sleep. You look… you look like you are falling apart, and I can't watch you do this to yourself.”

 

Clarke just nodded, unable to speak. Inside of her head she was yelling at herself, if this was her crazy brain, then why couldn't she make Lexa stay with her. She would be okay with the hallucinations, she would never leave her apartment if it meant she could be with and feel Lexa every day.

 

Lexa lifted Clarke off of her lap then set her down next to her on the bed. Her strength caught Clarke off guard, _had she always been that strong? No way._ More proof that this was all in Clarke’s mind. She couldn't complain though, for once Clarke was _happy_ that she was going mad because it meant she could see Lexa again.

 

"I love you, Lexa. I need more time with you," Clarke uttered quietly.

 

"I'll always be with you, Clarke. Now go to sleep, we will see each other again. I promise,” Lexa whispered as she tucked Clarke into bed. She ran the back of her fingers down Clarke’s face until her eyes closed and her breathing slowed. For the first time in over two years, Clarke had fallen asleep easily, quickly, and there were no nightmares.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a flashback in this one, hope everyone enjoys it! 
> 
> Also, I apologize for the weird formatting. It seems like there are 3 spaces between paragraphs but there's only one, kind of annoying.

The sound of dishes being tossed around in the sink caused Clarke to stir. She groaned and attempted to open her eyes, wincing at the impeding sunlight bursting through her window. _Damn_ it was bright in her apartment, she never had her curtains open anymore. “Mom,” she mumbled hoarsely.

“Good morning, Clarke,” she said then chuckled, “well I guess it's more like good afternoon now.”

Clarke sat up quickly and rubbed her eyes, “Shit! How long have I been asleep!? You should have woke me up! What time is it?” Her body was sore, as if she had been tossed in a drying machine and tumbled around for a bit. After sleeping for so long, one would think they would feel better, not worse. She fumbled around looking for her phone until she finally found it under a pile of blankets. “Shit shit shit, it's 2:30,” she whined and fell back into bed.

“Awhile,” her mother responded, “I didn't have the heart to wake you up, you looked so peaceful.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to Professor Moore,” Clarke grumbled. Genetics was luckily the only five day a week class she had, the others were on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Her class was at noon, and she knew she would hear about it and likely lose a percentage of her grade as a result of missing yet another day.

“I'm sure she’ll understand, if you like I can speak with her,” Abby said as she returned her attention to the dishes. “How long has it been since you cleaned up? Jeeze, it's like you live in a frat house.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, “Okay, number one - no you can not speak with my professor, I am in med school, not elementary school. You should know this. Number two - I hardly own anything, and I don't have visitors, so it's not like I need to impress anyone with a spotless, empty apartment that's barely lived in. I study, I paint, then I attempt to sleep. That's my life.”

Abby sighed, “Well, not caring about impressing people is one thing, but moldy dishes is a health hazard, Clarke.”

“Whatever, mom. I don't have time to argue.”

“Apparently I should visit more often, just to make sure you're not poisoning yourself,” Abby quipped. “I guess it was Lexa who kept everything immaculate before…” she stopped herself before finishing her thought.

“... before she died? Yup, she's dead, mom. And yeah, she was basically perfect,” she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, recalling the events from last night. _Was it a dream?_ If it was, she wanted more of them. There was a warm feeling that had implanted itself firmly inside of Clarke’s chest, a feeling that she hadn't felt in a long time. It was a feeling she didn't want to let go of, not in a million years. And if she was crazy, then maybe crazy wasn't so bad.

Lexa was Clarke’s forever. She knew it sounded so cliche but she didn't care because Lexa was her soulmate, her everything, her world, her anchor when everything else had been swept away in the current of their chaotic life.

* * *

_“Alright students, take your seats,” Mr. Rhodes grumbled from behind his large, oak desk. He pushed his giant framed glasses up onto his nose as he shuffled into his seat to make himself comfortable._

_Clarke had arrived late to school that morning and therefore had stumbled into the classroom after the bell had rang. She was relieved that her classmates were all standing around telling each other about their grandiose summer adventures, allowing Clarke the opportunity to enter virtually unnoticed._

_Her eyes wandered over the classroom, it was pretty boring. There were no motivational posters plastered to the walls, there was nothing on his desk - maybe he was new. She shrugged to herself and started eyeing the classroom for somewhere to sit. Kids were clamoring around loudly, claiming seats next to their friends or people who they thought were attractive. Usually Clarke tried to grab an inconspicuous spot in the back but they had already filled up._

_Near the front she spotted an empty seat next to a girl she hadn't seen before. Her eyes were scanning the pages of a history book, she seemed to be completely enraptured by it since she was oblivious to Clarke sitting next to her._

_“Hi, I'm Clarke,” she beamed and the girl jumped, sucking in a huge breath of air._

_“I am so sorry,” she stuttered. “I didn't see you sit down.” She looked up to meet Clarke’s gaze and Clarke had to look away. Wow, this girl was stunning and for some reason it made her feel a little uncomfortable._

_“I.. um, I'm Lexa, nice to meet you,” she mumbled._

_Clarke looked back up and shot Lexa a reassuring smile since she sounded as uncomfortable as Clarke felt, “that's a pretty name.”_

_Lexa’s response was unexpected, she turned bright shades of red all the way down to her chest and bit her bottom lip before mumbling a thank you. Clarke giggled like a schoolgirl for a moment, Lexa was absolutely adorable. It took everything in her to not peek over at her through her eyelashes every few seconds._

_When homeroom ended, Clarke nudged Lexa on her way out of the door, “so what class do you have next?” She asked mindlessly._

_“Oh uh, physics,” she muttered. Lexa seemed impossibly shy, and Clarke found it endearing. She desperately wanted to know more about this girl but she still couldn't figure out why._

_“Me too!” Clarke smiled, “would you like to sit together for that class?” Lexa nodded and Clarke felt herself light up like Christmas._

_The next few months went by in a blur. Clarke and Lexa had become best friends. They were inseparable, and Clarke found herself lost when Lexa went off to a martial arts camp for two weeks._

_Finn, Clarke’s boyfriend, had attempted to cheer her up by preparing an amazing dinner. He had planned everything perfectly - he would cook spaghetti bolognese, and for dessert he had spent hours preparing the cannolis his grandmother taught him how to make. Candles were placed evenly apart in the center of the table and he had dressed up, something he never did. His parents were gone for the weekend and he had been planning on doing something special for Clarke for weeks. Lexa was usually attached to her hip and Finn could see how much she missed her friend, this date was the perfect opportunity to cheer her up while letting Clarke know how much he cared about her._

_Finn waited, and waited, until Clarke finally knocked on the door. “Hey,” he said with a wide grin on his face. “I wasn't sure if you would make it.”_

_“Yeah, I'm sorry I just… got caught up in some stuff at home. You know, parental problems,” she laughed nervously and twisted at the hem of her shirt with her fingers._

_“Oh, I'm sorry. You could have cancelled, I mean.. I don't want you in trouble,” he muttered, suddenly worried about Clarke’s home life._

_“No, really, it's okay. I needed to get out, it's nice to get away from the drama.”_

_Clarke’s parents had recently filed for divorce but they were still living together. It made things incredibly tense and awkward. Usually she would spend most of her time at Lexa’s house. There was hardly any drama - she lived with her aunt and uncle, they didn't have any kids and they led a low key life. Clarke envied their simplicity and how they seemed to be content with very little._

_Finn grabbed Clarke’s hand, intertwining his fingers into hers. He squeezed gently as he guided her into the dining room. It was gorgeous - she knew that Finn’s family was rich but damn, these were the types of houses you would find on Mtv Cribs, and Finn lived here._

_Clarke swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable. Her parents were well off, but not to this extent. She felt much more comfortable at Lexa’s house, and she couldn't understand why she felt guilty having dinner at Finn’s house._

_Finn smiled at Clarke and leaned in for a quick kiss, Clarke felt her stomach drop and she turned her head quickly to prevent their lips from touching. “Um, what's that? Is that a trophy case?” she mumbled as she quickly tried to make an excuse for what had just happened. They had yet to do anything more than hold hands, anything more made Clarke feel uneasy._

_“Clarke, is everything okay?” Finn frowned. “You seem… off, and I've been your friend for a long time. We've been together three months now and.. I want to kiss you, like really really bad,” he sighed._

_Clarke wanted to groan but she controlled the urge and instead shuffled between both feet, “I know.. I just, I don't know, maybe it's because of my parent’s divorce,” she shrugged. She knew why though, and she couldn't even admit to herself let alone to Finn. Lexa was on her mind, every second of every day. She knew that if Finn kissed her, she would imagine that it was Lexa’s lips, and that would be wrong. She tried to control her feelings, bury them, had even tried dating to see if that would help her move past this silly infatuation but nothing except being near Lexa helped._

_Finn nodded, understanding. She hated how sweet he was being, wanted to tell him that she had no feelings for him, and she knew that she would inevitably end up hurting him. “Finn.. Actually, I'm not feeling too great,” her voice cracked a bit. “Would it be okay if we rescheduled?”_

_The look on Finn’s face made Clarke’s eyes water. He looked devastated, as if someone had just told him his puppy had died. She considered staying anyway but she knew she couldn't, not when she felt so completely disconnected from him._

_After what felt like forever, Finn nodded and gave Clarke a hug, said goodbye and that he would see her in class. When she turned around she saw Finn standing against the door frame, looking distraught and confused. Clarke knew she had broken his heart, and she also knew that this goodbye was likely the end of their relationship._

_That was the moment she decided to be honest with herself, to be honest with Lexa. She loved her, Lexa was a lost puzzle piece that Clarke didn't even know was missing until she looked into her green eyes and suddenly felt excited about living. There had been signs that Lexa felt the same way, but even if she didn't, Clarke had to spit the words out so that she could finally move on and live, hopefully with Lexa._

_Time slipped by quickly and before she knew it she was on her way over to Lexa’s house. Her body trembled with excitement, her smile so big that she thought her face may break. She didn't know it was possible to miss someone as much as she had missed Lexa._

_She knocked on the big green door once, twice. Then it flung open and Lexa flew out of the door, her arms wrapping around Clarke’s neck. They held each other for several moments before leaning back to look at each other. Clarke could feel her heart pounding relentlessly in her chest. God, Lexa’s eyes were gorgeous, everything about her was way too perfect._

_Before she could process the movements, Lexa’s lips were on hers, pressing hard. Clarke moaned into the kiss, sliding her hand onto the back of Lexa’s neck, into her hair. They stood there kissing, exploring each other’s mouths with their tongues until they could no longer breathe. When they broke apart their eyes were wide and Clarke felt like her entire body was on fire. “I take it you missed me,” she grinned, poking Lexa’s abdomen._

_“You have no idea,” she breathed then giggled, “okay well maybe you do have a little bit of an idea.”_

_That was the day Clarke’s life became full, full of Lexa, full of love, of promises for forever._

 

* * *

 

“Hey there, space cadet,” her mom yelled from the other bedroom.

“Uh sorry,” Clarke muttered, flushing, “I was just thinking of the day Lexa and I first kissed.”

“Ah, yes,” Abby smiled. “You were on cloud nine and I could tell something had changed in you right away.” Her expression changed from cheerful to sad almost immediately, and Clarke knew where her thoughts were going.

“Yeah, well… things change, I wish I could be that happy again,” Clarke whispered.

Abby sighed, “maybe someday, honey, you have to give it a chance.”

Clarke just shook her head, her mom wouldn't understand anyway. Abby cleared her throat then sat down next to Clarke, “I would love to sit and reminisce with you all night but sadly I need to leave. The doctor who was supposed to be on call tonight called off sick tonight, so I need to take over. If you need anything, anything at all, just give me a call. Okay?” Abby leaned over and kissed Clarke’s cheek.

“Alright, mom. No problem, thanks for coming over. No thanks for making me miss my class though,” she grumbled.

Abby left quickly and her apartment suddenly felt twenty times bigger. Clarke laid back against her bed and folded her hands underneath her head as she stared at the ceiling fan twirling above her. The movement of the blades spinning made her zone out again and she closed her eyes.

“You're beautiful,” a voice said from across the room, making Clarke jump.

“Lexa,” she whispered, and the tears began to attack her eyes mercilessly. Clarke jumped up onto her feet and crossed the room in seconds, she wrapped her arms around Lexa’s waist and pulled her in for a tight hug. “Am I crazy?” Clarke whispered into her ear.

“Well.. Probably,” Lexa snorted as her hands stroked Clarke’s hair. “You smell so good..” she whispered.

Clarke’s words got caught in her throat as she leaned back to peer into Lexa’s eyes. “No, really, Lexa - am I crazy? Because you're dead. But you're here. And I'm touching you, and I definitely feel crazy.”

Lexa smirked, “you are definitely crazy, Clarke,” she jibed and Clarke rolled her eyes. She sighed and then pulled Clarke back into her, “I wish I could tell you, but I can't. It would put you at risk for.. well, I shouldn't be here. With you. I can't stay away though. I tried and I did okay for awhile but… then your name came up and..” Lexa stopped and clenched her jaw, “I've already said too much.”

“What? No, I don't understand,” Clarke’s eyes were the size of golf balls as she tried to stare  into Lexa’s mind. Maybe since she was able to somehow communicate with and physically touch a dead person she would also be able to read said dead person’s mind. No such luck though. Clarke took a deep breath, her hands trembling against Lexa’s waist. “I love you, Lexa. If I'm going crazy then I never want to be sane again.”

“I know,” Lexa whispered as she moved her hands around to Clarke’s back, sliding her hand under her shirt to gently trace circles with her fingers. Clarke shuddered and buried her head into the crook of Lexa’s neck.

“Clarke, I shouldn't be here. You need to move on,” Lexa said gently as she continued to trace circles.

“I can't move on, Lexa. You're a piece of me. I would trade a thousand lifetimes full of promising futures and careers just for one lifetime with you. Being a doctor.. It was my dream, sure, but it doesn't mean anything if I don't have you,” tears trailed down Clarke’s cheeks into Lexa’s hair. “I don't know what you are, but I feel okay again. Even if I only get a few moments with you here and there, it's better than constantly wishing a bus would run me over, or that lightning would strike on top of me, or that I'd just disappear into thin air.”

Lexa grabbed Clarke’s shoulders and pushed her away slightly to look into her eyes. Lexa was pale, her eyes were like emeralds that sparkled, her hair was braided and draped beautifully over her shoulders and down between her shoulder blades. She was wearing the same clothes she wore the night before, all black. Her pants looked like they were apart of her skin, leather, Clarke thought. She had black knee high boots, a regular looking black t-shirt, and a leather jacket that was so long it hit the back of her knees. Clarke hadn't paid much attention to her appearance before but staring at her now made her mouth go dry.

“I was going to say something serious but then you started checking me out,” Lexa growled.

Clarke gave her an innocent look and bit her lip, “Sorry, but _holy shit_ you look sexy, Lexa. Now I'm convinced I'm crazy, because this is something you would _never_ wear.”

Lexa’s jaw dropped and she turned bright red, “I have a job. I have to wear black,” she muttered.

“A job? What?” Clarke gaped.

“I told you, I've said too much,” Lexa sighed and shook her head.

“I also think you're _wearing_ too much right now,” Clarke said absentmindedly. “Can dead people have sex? Oh wait, I'm crazy, so I'm imagining you. If I'm imagining you, can you just like.. I don't know, go over to my bed with me so I can strip you down and do really naughty things to you? It's been a long time since.. anything.. and right now I feel like I'm going to implode.”

Lexa laughed and tutted, “I don't have time. I wish… Maybe, sometime, later I don't know. You're not crazy, Clarke. Well you are but not about this,” she smiled.

“I'll hold you to it,” Clarke pouted and then yawned. “I don't know why I'm so tired, I slept like 14 hours last night.. Thanks to you,” her hands moved to Lexa’s biceps, she squeezed them and slowly moved them down until their hands met. Clarke took her index finger and softly trailed it down each of Lexa’s fingers. “I wish you could stay,” she whispered. “I wish I could spend days, weeks, months, years just touching every part of your body. I want to commit all of it to memory, every line, every freckle..” her words trailed off as she moved her hand to Lexa’s abdomen and gently trailed fingers over her shirt. “God, I miss you,” she whimpered.

Lexa’s eyes were closed and her breathing was uneven, she shifted to steady herself then opened her eyes. “Clarke, I have to leave.. But, tomorrow I'll be here again, and we can talk more, okay? Take care of yourself, please.”

Clarke nodded and tried to hold her tears back, “I'm so afraid.. that I'm going to wake up, and I'll be in hell again,” Clarke choked.

“Go lie down, Clarke,” Lexa ordered. Clarke groaned then stumbled over to her bed and laid down. Once again, Lexa tucked her in and stroked her cheek softly. As Clarke slowly drifted off, Lexa whispered “Hell is empty, Clarke. All of the Devils are here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice Shakespeare quote from The Tempest at the end. More hints were dropped, any guesses now?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: mentions/implies suicide
> 
> Definitely hopping out of my comfort zone a bit. Hope everyone enjoys. :)

Waking up to an empty apartment should feel normal. It should, but it doesn’t. The curtains were still open from the day before, Clarke hadn’t bothered closing them. The sunlight beamed through once again, but this time she just stared out of the window until her eyes couldn’t tolerate the pain anymore.

Slowly she sat up in bed and pushed her feet out onto the floor, crossing them at the ankles. Everything about the last few days had been so surreal and magical, she felt like she had been living in a fantasy world. Images of Lexa floated around in her head - strong, intimidating, _cold_ Lexa. She loved her newfound insanity, but she was also concerned that it would escalate into something more severe. The word ‘schizophrenia’ kept popping up into the forefront of her mind, she was after all the right age for it to appear. If her delusions only involved seeing and hearing Lexa, then she would try to see it as a blessing instead of a curse.

Flipping her hands palm up on her lap, she stared at the creases in her fingers, the lines along her palms. A palm reader had once told her she would live a long, happy, healthy life and the memory caused Clarke to scoff. _Sure, whatever._ It was funny how little things back then had provided her with a false sense of security, she missed how naive and innocent she once was.

After trundling out of her bed the routine she had become accustomed to kicked in and she mindlessly prepared herself for the day. Today she would face her sullen Professor and hopefully speak with her after class about her transgressions. Clarke made sure that she was on time, early even by thirty minutes. She sighed and castigated herself for being so paranoid, but she knew that there was a good chance she was going to fail the class.

Professor Moore slipped by Clarke fifteen minutes before class started and unlocked the door. At first she thought that the woman had completely ignored her presence but then she turned around and motioned for Clarke to enter the room. Clarke took a deep breath and squared her shoulders while trying to put on her best ‘I can do this’ face.

“I’m surprised to see that you’re early, or here at all,” the Professor muttered with a condescending tone.

Clarke nodded slowly and chewed at her lip, “I am.. I’m really sorry for everything, my mind hasn’t been in a good place. I was wondering if there was any way to make it up.”

“Perhaps you should consider taking a break if your mind is unable to keep up with the demands of med school, Miss Griffin,” she replied tersely.

Clarke swallowed and started to feel nauseous, part of her hated that she kept referring to Clarke as _Miss Griffin_ , although she didn’t take Lexa’s last name, she was still a _Mrs._ nonetheless. “Um, it’s Missus, not Miss, and..”  

Professor Moore lifted her hand to silently say she had heard enough, “I’m well aware of your history, _Mrs. Griffin,”_ she hissed. “Do your other professors give you special treatment? Are you not aware that patient’s lives will be in your hands? If I give you special treatment, then how will you learn? I am incredibly sorry that you lost your wife, but why don’t you channel that anger into saving the lives of others?”

Clarke was left speechless and the Professor sighed. It was easy to see that she had immediately regretted being so harsh. Clarke felt like an errant child and stared down at her knotted hands. Finally the Professor broke her silence, putting Clarke out of her misery, “Every day, I will give you an extra assignment that will cover the things that you have missed. If you miss one more day, or if you are even more than one minute late, then I will take this deal off of the table. Do you understand?”

Clarke let out a large breath, she hadn’t realized she had been holding it in. “Yes, thank you. Thank you so much.” Her fingers were trembling, she was sure that that was it. She was done, no more med school, goodbye college, goodbye future. As much as she disliked her Professor, she still had to fight the urge to lunge towards her and hug her tightly.

The day evaporated into the unsettling darkness altogether too quickly. Clarke sat on the patio outside of her apartment with her knees pulled up against her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs and took deep breaths. The moon was a gorgeous shade of red, a _blood moon_. Despite how gorgeous it was, she had trouble looking at it for too long. Too many untold horrors creeping up to remind her of the haunted past she would never be able to shed.

Hours passed, and Clarke’s stomach twisted in knots. She hadn't moved from her position except to stretch her legs out in front of her. Lexa said she would be there, but she wasn't. A laugh unexpectedly tore through her throat as tears cascaded down her face. _Stupid. So stupid._ Of course Clarke would be upset over something that didn't exist, something that wasn't possible. “Shit,” she said under her breath as she tried to calm her trembling body down.

The night drifted away as the sun slowly came up to replace the moon in the sky. Clarke still sat on the patio, half asleep. Defeated, she shuffled out of her position and stood up, knees wobbling from being stuck in an uncompromising position for too long. She stumbled back into her apartment and flopped back onto her bed in a starfish position. Her alarm was set to wake her up before her first class, she could at least get a few hours of sleep in, she thought. But sleep wouldn't come.

The previous two nights had already reminded her of what she was missing. Lexa was her lullaby, her light in the hallway. She felt safe feeling her hands gently stroking her cheek, and as if she were a dreamcatcher she kept the monsters in her nightmares away. _It's all in my head,_ she told herself over and over again. She willed herself, pleaded with her own mind to make Lexa appear again, but her mind couldn't even succeed at being crazy.

Two, three, four nights passed without Lexa. After a week Clarke resigned herself to the fact that Lexa had just been a figment of her imagination. There were nights where she would see shadows dance across her walls, her heartbeat would spike but when she turned the light on, no one was there. Lexa’s silhouette followed her everywhere, down college corridors, through street alleys. Clarke hadn't slept in days and her mind began to shut down, she knew whatever weird unexplained things she was witnessing was due to her exhaustion.

One night she broke and fell asleep, head rested on a half painted canvas that was perched on an easel. She could never stave off sleep for too long, no matter how hard she tried.

 

_“Lexa,” Clarke beamed as she walked in through the door of the apartment the girls shared._

_Lexa was standing in the kitchen, hair done up in a beautiful chignon. Stray strands of hair rested on the back of her neck and Clarke couldn't resist moving the stray hair to the side to gently kiss where the hair had just been. She wrapped her arms around Lexa’s waist and uttered words against her soft skin in between kisses._

_“I take it you missed me,” Lexa grinned._

_“Always,” Clarke whispered, and Lexa shuddered as the warm air hit her bare skin._

_Lexa turned around and slid her arms around Clarke’s neck who in turn placed gentle kisses on her forearm._

_“Lexa,” she gasped, as if all the air had suddenly been knocked out of her. “What's.. what's that?” Clarke stared, shell shocked with a shaky finger pointing towards the ground. There was blood pooling at Lexa’s feet, absorbing everything around them like quicksand until there was nothing left. Nothing left aside from Clarke standing in the darkness up to her knees in blood._

 

“Whoaaaa, hey! Princess!” Firm hands clasped Clarke’s shoulders and shook gently. Clarke snapped back, confused and gasping for breath. Her entire body was trembling and she was soaked in sweat.

“Hey, hey, it's okay,” a soft voice said.

It took Clarke a few moments for everything to come into focus. “Bellamy,” she choked as her eyes met the security guard’s concerned gaze. “I'm.. sorry, I sometimes have nightmares and.. I haven't been able to sleep. I never meant to fall asleep here.”

“Man, you had me worried. I was on my way over to let you know that I was about to lock up when I heard you screaming,” he took a deep breath and shook his head. “I thought you were being attacked or something, the sounds you made… they were intense. You okay?”

Clarke stared at the canvas in front of her then blinked up at him, confused. “Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,” she lied.

“You want me to walk you home?” Bellamy’s hands were still on Clarke’s shoulders and it made her feel uncomfortable. She shuffled a bit then stood up out of his grasp.

“Um, I should be okay,” she muttered. “Thanks though.”

Bellamy chuckled and nodded, “Alright then well.. I think you need to go wash your face off before you leave, because you look like you're an actress in a bad slasher flick.” He reached up and scratched at his face nervously but looked amused.

Clarke lifted her hand and touched her cheek, when she pulled it down to examine her fingers she groaned. _Shit_. There was paint all over her face. “Thanks, Bellamy,” she sighed. “I'll go wash up then head out. Sorry for keeping you late,” she grumbled after glancing at the clock, it was twenty minutes after closing time.

“Oh, you know, Clarke.. it's cool, I don't mind,” Bellamy looked slightly flustered. Clarke attempted to smile at him but it transformed into some type of awkward grimace.

“Oh ok, well thanks again, Bellamy,” she slid past him quickly before he could say anything else and slipped into the bathroom in the hallway to wash up. Bellamy was a talker and if she let him, he would spend all night talking her ear off. Clarke was not in the mood to humor anyone.

 

* * *

 

The streets that lined her little college town were darkened except for the occasional light orange glow that emanated from unevenly placed street lamps. The streets were quiet and peaceful, it was a nice change from the usual current of noisy college kids clamoring mindlessly through town.

Clarke took her time and slowly walked back to her apartment, letting her lungs inflate with the cool, clean night air. Her steps were even and light against the concrete, she could hear distant footsteps that weren't so even from behind. She attempted to shrug it off, it was usually a busy town after all. Her paranoia convinced her to pay attention to the noise though, just in case.

The footsteps were fast, hurried, and clumsy then they would stop abruptly. A few seconds later the hurried steps would continue, it sounded like whoever was behind her may be drunk as their feet dragged along the concrete. _Drunk? On a Tuesday?_ While not terribly uncommon due to the fact it was a college town, it still made Clarke’s skin crawl. She debated turning around to see who it was, but apprehension ripped through her body and suddenly she was terrified. Flashbacks from the night Lexa died played through her head. The violent bloody scene that had transpired in front of her pulled her into an anxiety laden universe. Clarke knew that if someone attacked her that she would go limp like a rag doll, just like she had that night.

Suddenly the footsteps just… stopped and didn't continue like usual. Clarke slipped into the shadow of a building and took deep breaths to calm her thundering heart down. She scanned the area to see if she could spot who had been behind her but saw nothing except shadows. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest and her knees went weak as the shadows began to move. They moved quickly, waves of thick black smoke clashing together in an ocean of asphalt and concrete. Clarke’s breath got caught in her throat and she tried to close her eyes but she was too transfixed on what was happening in front of her. “ _This isn't real, this isn't really happening,”_ she told herself repeatedly.

Clarke leaned back against the building and slid down the hard brick exterior until her bottom hit the sidewalk. She pulled her knees up and hugged them tightly to her chest. _One, two, three_.. she started counting in her head to distract herself. “What is happening to me?” She whispered weakly as she closed her eyes and cried into her knees.

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here,” cool air hit the side of Clarke’s neck as an arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her into a familiar embrace.

“Lexa,” Clarke croaked as she buried her face into the crook of the girl’s neck and began sobbing. “I’m so scared.”

“I know - you’re okay, I’m here, you’re not alone,” Lexa cooed quietly, tightening her embrace around Clarke’s shoulder.

Clarke melted into Lexa’s chilled touch. It wasn’t at all like how it had been when they were together, but it was still Lexa. Her smell, the long fingers that wrapped around Clarke’s bicep protectively, her uneven breaths betraying the calm expression she wore. It wasn’t Lexa, but it was, it felt right, but it didn’t. Clarke felt like she was Alice falling down the rabbit hole, her mind had been in a head on collision and suddenly she had no idea what was real and what wasn’t.

“Lexa, I..”

“Let’s get you home,” Lexa muttered before Clarke could finish. As she stood she pulled Clarke up along with her.

Lexa’s strength caught Clarke off guard and she tensed, “I can’t keep pretending like this is normal, Lexa. It’s not. You’re not normal, please tell me what’s going on,” she pleaded, she could feel her own expression turning to stone under Lexa’s gaze. Her emotions were distorting her thoughts and she desperately needed to close off that part of her brain that was filled with a mixture of fear and longing.

The muscles in Lexa’s neck became visible as she clenched her jaw tightly. “I can’t explain, not now. I need to take you home, it isn’t safe right now,” her words were harsh and rigid. Clarke felt the air escape from her lungs and for a moment she thought her heart had completely stopped beating. Lexa’s eyes had become almost entirely black except for a small ring of green that circled her iris. She felt frozen in time as she gazed into Lexa’s eyes.

“Clarke,” Lexa sighed as her eyes returned to normal. “Let’s go,” she ordered. This time there was no waiting for Clarke’s response as Lexa moved swiftly and gracefully toward the apartment.

 

* * *

 

Clarke stumbled into the apartment breathless. She stopped just inside the door and placed her hands on her knees, panting. “You are really difficult to keep up with you know,” she breathed.

“I'm sorry, if you had let me carry you then there would have been no problems,” Lexa said with a smug look on her face.

“ _Carry_ me!?” Clarke huffed, “seriously Lexa, my mind is outdoing itself tonight. So if you're a hallucination.. then my mind’s mind is outdoing itself in crazy. Yeah, because that definitely makes sense. You have seen your arms, right?”

Lexa’s eyes narrowed, “I am not a hallucination.”

“Then what the fuck are you?” Clarke seethed as the confusion and fury ignited her veins. “The last few weeks have been absolute _hell_ for me, Lexa. I tried to convince myself that having insane delusions of you was better than not having you at all, because _anything_ is better than not having you.” She slumped onto the floor, her eyes red and swollen from the tears that threatened to escape.

Lexa took a deep breath and kneeled down in front of Clarke carefully. She took Clarke’s hands into her own and squeezed. “You're alive,” Lexa whispered.

“Barely,” Clarke scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I'm on a precipice, Lexa. I feel like I'm about to break and… I can't live, not like this. My mom thinks I should go back to the psychiatric hospital, and I'm really tempted to pack my shit and just do it.”

“You did break, Clarke,” Lexa blinked away tears and took shaky breaths. “You did break, and that's why I'm here. You broke and you weren't supposed to. You were supposed to _live._ I knew you would be hurt, I knew it would take a long time for you to heal but…”

“What?” Clarke gasped, not understanding. “What do you mean?” Her hands trembled in Lexa’s hands. “Am I dead or something, Lexa? Because if I am this is a really shitty afterlife.”

Lexa snorted through tears and let out a laugh, “Only you could make me laugh at a time like this,” she sighed and shook her head in disbelief. “You did die, Clarke, but you're not dead. You're not dead because I brought you back.”

Clarke furrowed her brows and blinked a few times, “I think the tea I had earlier was laced with LSD or something,” she muttered while gazing off into space.

Lexa let out an exasperated sigh, “This is serious, Clarke. There are consequences for what I did. I shouldn't have.. but I did.”

“Do you regret it?” Clarke whispered as she managed to snap out of her daze to look Lexa in the eyes.

Almost immediately Lexa responded, “No.”

“Are you an angel?”

Lexa shook her head, “No.”

“You're not making this easy for me,” Clarke huffed.

Slowly Lexa leaned in and untangled her hands from Clarke’s, she moved a hand up to cup Clarke’s chin and lifted it, grinning when she heard Clarke’s breath catch in her throat. “I'm far too misbehaved to be an angel, Clarke,” she breathed as she pressed her lips to Clarke’s and gently kissed.

Soft moans vibrated through Clarke’s throat and into Lexa’s mouth. The sudden show of affection was unexpected, her chest hurt and her lungs burned with longing. Clarke leaned back and pressed her forehead to Lexa’s. “Please,” she whispered. “Please tell me what's going on. Who was behind me tonight?”

Lexa swallowed hard around the lump in her throat, “You're marked.”

“Why are you being so vague? Lexa, that means nothing to me. Marked?” Clarke clenched her teeth in frustration and leaned back against the wall.

“You were supposed to die. You're still marked for death. Others like me, but worse, will try to collect.” Lexa’s eyes were nearly completely black again. Her fingers stroked the back of Clarke’s hand, then she flipped her hand over and traced light circles over her palm. “I won't let you die,” her voice was hoarse with unshed tears and it made Clarke ache all over.

“You said I already died. How? When?” Clarke felt like she had a thousand questions that would take days, maybe longer to answer.

Lexa just shook her head in response, “I'm just a vessel, Clarke.”

“Like.. The grim reaper?” Clarke snorted. “That's ridiculous, Lexa.”

“Kind of, it's more complicated. I don't have time to go into this, I never have enough time. Can you please just stay in your apartment at night? Until I figure something out?”

“Lexa, what if I want to die?” Clarke whispered. “You made a decision for me, what if that was a decision I didn't want you to make?”

The pain Clarke saw in Lexa’s eyes seared through her. It was an honest question, one that she asked herself daily. _Maybe I want to die, to end this pain._

Lexa interrupted Clarke’s thoughts, “You don't want to die, not like that. The place you would go..” she trailed off.

Clarke sighed. “I'm not going to get answers tonight, am I?” Lexa shook her head and looked down at her fingers that were still in Clarke’s hand. “I need you like I need water, Lexa.”

Lexa tugged Clarke’s hand and pulled her onto her lap. Her arms snaked around her waist and she buried her head into Clarke’s hair. “I wish I could give you more answers,” she whispered.

Clarke nodded and melted into Lexa’s body, curling up against her with her head on her chest. “You don't have a heartbeat,” Clarke choked. “There's no heartbeat, Lexa,” her eyes stung as she cried into her chest.

Lexa sighed and Clarke could feel her nod against the top of her head as her fingers worked through her long blonde hair, reassuring her. "I need to leave, Clarke. Would you like me to stay with you until you fall asleep?”

Clarke nodded into her chest and Lexa smiled. “Okay, let’s get you to bed.”

Clarke fell asleep that night even more confused than she had been the night before. Before drifting off she made a mental note to get in touch with her mother in the morning. She was sure at this point she truly was going mad. She couldn't continue reveling in the presence of her dead girlfriend. Something wasn't right, and she was positive that it was her mind.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “At grief so deep the tongue must wag in vain; the language of our sense and memory lacks the vocabulary of such pain.”  
> ― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that it took a long time to update. I've actually been back and forth working on this chapter since I posted the last one. It's such a turning point and as a very inexperienced writer, I had a difficult time with it.
> 
> Let me know what you think! Feel free to hit me up on tumblr - http://andwill.tumblr.com (I'm super new at tumblr so forgive me for anything dumb I may do).
> 
> Updates should be a bit easier after this chapter and the next few will be from Lexa's point of view. I would really like to get some sort of schedule going. 
> 
> Also some useless info: In AU's my characters are only in locations that I've lived in or have experience with. I was born and raised in Detroit, went to college in the Philadelphia area, and currently live in Seattle. I had a hard knock life prior to college and was even homeless for a time so I pulled from past feelings for Lexa on this one.
> 
> And WARNING: Elaborated on Lexa's death, flashbacks, I'm sorry. There *will* be a happy ending, I've always planned on a happy ending, but this story will be super sad and depressing for a time before it gets cute and fluffy.

**Lexa**

There was little that phased Lexa. Growing up on the outskirts of Detroit with wretched role models had toughened her up. She learned quickly that if she wanted anything, she would have to work her ass off for it. And she did.

As a young child Lexa had made a decision to do whatever it took to succeed in life. She had spent most of her life worrying if she would have a home to go back to, if she would eat that day, or if her mother would be alive when she arrived home from school. As a result she had turned to less than ideal ways of coping, eventually falling into a dangerous life centered around a violent gang known as The Grounders. It was there that she had made a name for herself, and when she left to make a new life for herself years later her name stayed behind.

The Grounders gave Lexa a home, a family, _stability._ The work she did wasn't honorable but it put food on the table and she had a roof over her head. For the first time in her entire life she didn't worry about when her next paycheck would come. Her only worry was that she was a target, a _big_ target, especially as she swiftly maneuvered her way up the ranks. When she was given the title ‘Commander’ it had beared little meaning, as time went on though it meant everything. The Grounders loved their Commander, respected her, died for her.

The overwhelming amount of adoration she received from her people was what ultimately led her to flee from them. So many had died for her, including the only love she had ever known - Costia.

The weight that she had carried on her shoulders from such a young age had become too heavy, too terrifying, and as time went on Lexa found it impossible to look into the eyes of her young warriors as she sent them to their early graves. The pained expressions of their mothers, fathers, siblings and children flashed behind her eyes night after night.

Leaving The Grounders was no easy feat. It would be months after making her decision before she was able to slip away. The gang she had spent so long fighting and living for wouldn't simply let her walk away, there were no two week notices here - those who made it out left in a casket. Death would be the only way she could leave, and with the help of her sister Anya she was able to fake her own death. _Arson_ , the easiest way to cover their tracks and prevent anyone from ever knowing the truth. In retrospect, Lexa was being naïve.

After faking her death, her plan to escape was carried out quickly and efficiently. She had a false identity prepared for her, had been accepted into a nice university under false pretenses, and before she knew it she fell into her life as Alexandria Woods. It was the life she had always dreamed of but knew that she didn't deserve. Her nightmares only worsened, her guilt intensified, she _didn't_ deserve the life that she had when she had abandoned those who had become her family. Not when those she still cared about fought a senseless war that would only end in more heartache for everyone.

Lexa kept in touch with Anya, despite knowing the risks. If anyone found out Lexa was alive and well living a comfortable life on the East coast not only would they hunt Lexa down, they would also kill Anya. It was for that reason that Lexa stayed where she was, in the dark, helpless and alone. Then Clarke entered the picture, and like the incendiary device Clarke was she blew apart all of the emotional walls that Lexa had worked so diligently to build around herself.

Clarke was unexpected. Lexa fought her feelings, pushed Clarke away, but inevitably she would end up back in her arms. There was no denying their love, Clarke made her feel _whole_ and safe wrapped in her cocoon of blue eyes and wild blonde hair. It was something Lexa had never felt before, a feeling she didn't even know existed, and in a moment of weakness she followed her heart and entangled herself in the amazing powerhouse that was Clarke Griffin.

Their love was messy, fun, intense, and dangerous. Lexa knew that loving Clarke would put her into danger. The worry consumed her and she found herself becoming over protective, shielding Clarke from anything that may be perceived as a threat. It was pointless, Lexa knew that if The Grounders came after her, that it would be damn near impossible to protect Clarke from them. The thought made her nauseous, and despite wanting to tell Clarke everything she decided that silence was the best way to protect her.

The decision to withhold information from Clarke happened to be one of the few intelligent decisions Lexa had made in her life.

_An unnamed assailant. Burglary gone wrong. Twenty-six year old Alexandria Woods tragically murdered in front of wife._

Clarke was safe believing that it all boiled down to shit luck. Lexa had been murdered by a rampaging transient who was attempting to steal items from their home for profit. Clarke would believe that, she had no reason to believe otherwise.

 

* * *

 

Up until the night of Lexa’s death, nothing had seemed out of the ordinary, but Lexa knew that she had grown complacent over the years. The Grounders had split into smaller gangs and were no longer a solid cohesive unit. Anya had managed to slip away from the gang without issue, and Lexa finally felt as though her life was her own. Faces from her past slipped into her thoughts daily, but they no longer prevented her from experiencing her own happiness.

Lexa still had not informed Clarke of her past. Despite being married, despite giving Clarke her entire heart and soul, she knew that Clarke knowing about her violent past could unravel her own emotional well being and would also put her at an unnecessary risk. No one needed to know, no one except herself and Anya. Making up lies about her past came easily - it was what she had grown accustomed to doing from such a young age. Lying was second nature, and any reservations Lexa had about deceiving her wife were easily pushed to the back of her mind as she imagined Clarke’s horror struck face if the truth came out.

Their day had been normal. They woke up in each other's arms, cuddled and watched television, then went grocery shopping in the evening.

It was cool outside, the leaves had begun to litter the streets of their quaint college town. Autumn was by far Lexa’s favorite season, there was something about the slow, relaxing pace of a hot, blazing summer transforming into the mystical elegance of winter.

With plastic bags draped around their wrists Lexa and Clarke transcended the staircase to their fourth floor apartment, grunting along the way.

“ _Why_ did we not think of how much of a pain in the ass hauling groceries up four floors would be when we got this apartment?” Clarke huffed as they finally made it to the upper level, “I’m pretty sure the bags have completely cut off circulation to my hands. They’re numb!”

Lexa snickered and dropped the bags she was holding to the left of the doorway. “You’re cute,” Lexa winked and poked Clarke’s side, producing a squeak from her in response.

“Well had I known my cold, lifeless appendages were endearing to you..” Clarke sneered, rolling her eyes. “Open the door, Lexa!”

“Yes, dear,” Lexa beamed with a faux smile.

A cold chill travelled down the length of Lexa’s spine as she went to unlock the door, but found it was already unlocked. She had locked it, she was sure. With a steadying breath she kicked open the door slightly and tried to peer through the dark entryway. Nothing seemed out of place, but that didn’t stop the intense fear that coiled in her gut.

“Clarke,” Lexa whispered as she met her wife’s wide, blue eyes. Clarke had remained silent observing Lexa’s intense expression, a look of confusion etched across her soft features. With a deep breath, Lexa slowly took the bags from Clarke and sat them next to the bags she had placed by the door quietly.

Lexa placed her hands on Clarke’s upper arms and gazed into her eyes, “Clarke, I need you to go down to the car for a moment. Okay?”

Clarke’s brow furrowed, “What? Why? We probably just forgot to the lock the door,” she shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

“No, no. I definitely locked it. Just go out to the car, _please,_ ” Lexa pleaded, but she knew that time was not on her side. If there was someone lingering in their apartment, they would soon be alerted to the hushed voices on the other side of the door.

Clarke stared into Lexa’s eyes, her confused expression transforming into an indignant look. “You’re being ridiculous, Lexa,” she sighed.

“Fine, stay out here then. If you hear something unusual, call the police,” when Clarke shot her a rebellious look, Lexa just shook her head. “There is no arguing about this.”

“Okay, okay,” Clarke huffed. “I still think you’re being ridiculous though.”

“Noted,” Lexa grumbled.

Lexa used the outside of her right foot to push open the front door a little further. Standing on the threshold, she took a deep breath and slowly inched her way into the apartment.

All of Lexa’s senses were on high alert, every slight sound vibrating through her body as if it were a metronome. With every step she took, she had to pause and remind herself to breathe. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so terrified, wasn’t sure if she had _ever_ been that terrified, but Clarke was standing right outside the door, and bile rose in her throat at the thought of any harm coming to her wife.

Lexa rounded a corner to enter the living area of their apartment and was greeted by the sight of a solid black object in the shape of a man relaxed with his legs crossed on their couch.

“The mighty commander makes her appearance,” the figure sneered, shifting slightly from his comfortable position on the couch.

Lexa recognized the cold, disembodied voice immediately.

“Roan,” she growled. “What do you want?”

“You've gotten sloppy, commander. It was all too easy to find you. Once I found you, I couldn't help but find enjoyment in watching you. You're so… domesticated these days,” he chuckled softly to himself and shook his head.

“What. Do. You. Want?” Lexa was seeing red, her limbs were tense and she was desperately trying to hold on to her sanity.

Roan sighed, “you know why I'm here, commander. You know what I am. Honestly I'm disappointed, had you encountered me in this way years ago my throat would have been slit minutes ago. You've become so weak,” he tutted.

A surge of intense energy rushed through Lexa and she surged forward, wrapping her hand around Roan’s throat. She squeezed tightly, lifting him up off of the couch. All of her anger exploded out of her as she watched the life slowly draining from Roan’s eyes.

“....Lexa?” A small voice, hushed and angelic pulled Lexa out of the haze of fury that had shrouded her mind.

Roan smirked and Lexa knew. She knew that in that brief moment she let her guard down, it was over. Roan plunged a knife into Lexa’s abdomen and her eyes briefly met Clarke’s as Lexa and Roan both tumbled to the ground. Clarke’s face was pale, her eyes were huge, and her entire body was shaking violently.

“Lexa!” Clarke screamed out and fell to her knees.

Lexa fought to regain control as her body went into shock. Roan shifted on top of her, causing an intense pain to wind its way up into her chest.

Roan leaned down, grasping Lexa’s hair. He lifted her head up and pressed his cheek against hers, “Now you get to watch me kill your gorgeous wife,” he whispered.

“Clarke,” Lexa choked, “RUN!”

But Clarke couldn't move, her eyes were transfixed on Lexa’s bloodied body. Lexa watched in horror as Roan approached Clarke with a wide grin on his face. In a moment of clarity, Lexa tore the knife out of her abdomen, her adrenaline spiked, and she lunged forward, slamming the knife into Roan’s spine. He stumbled forward sputtering and crumbled to the ground.

Clarke was still shaking violently, fumbling for her phone. Her bright blue eyes taken over by blown pupils caused by terror were locked onto Lexa as she slowly bled out. Had Lexa not used the knife on Roan, she may have survived the attack, but there was no chance she would survive now.

It was worth it. Clarke was safe. Her heart would be shattered, but she was safe. That's all that mattered, and as Lexa’s life slowly faded she smiled at the woman who had given her life more meaning, a purpose, a life full of love instead of violence.

With all of the energy Lexa had left to give, she whispered “I love you” before her body gave up its battle and everything went black.

 

* * *

 

Screams. Screams everywhere. They surrounded Lexa and pierced her ears like a serrated blade to her ear drum. She tried to move, but nothing would respond. Her eyes wouldn't open and she was cold, _so cold._

 _A coma,_ she thought. She must be in a coma, alive but unresponsive in a hospital somewhere. _Thank God, I'm alive,_ she would be okay.

“God has nothing to do with this, sweetheart.” A deep, husky voice echoed throughout her skull as a long fingernail scratched up her forearm, making her wince.

That voice. _That_ voice. She would be able to recognize that voice anywhere, she had longed for it in a previous life, had loved its owner fiercely. Lexa felt her entire body tense and shudder. She tried to respond but couldn't. _I'm dead, I'm dead and Costia is here in hell with me._

“You're not far off,” Costia said despondently, reading Lexa’s mind. “Your body will take time to recover and to… change.” It sounded as if Costia was trying to find the right words, but never elaborated.

_Change? What?_

Costia’s tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth as fingernails continued to assault Lexa’s arm, trailing up to her neck, then to her jaw. “You always did have perfect features. I wish I could see those stunning eyes, but we’ll have to wait for that,” she mused to herself.

The screams continued, they never stopped, and Lexa felt tears escaping past her closed eyelids.

“You've grown weak, Commander, I wonder what _they_ saw in you. No matter,” she sighed.

Lexa heard shuffling around her, a hand grasped her bicep roughly and icy cold breath hit her ear, “time to sleep now, my lovely,” Costia whispered, her tone sickly sweet. A thumb ran across Lexa’s lower lip and before any other thoughts could materialize, darkness took over.

 

* * *

 

**Clarke - Present Day**

 

Clarke stood in front of the large, white door that served as a shield, unknowingly protecting her from a past that she would rather forget. The war that raged within herself was desperate for a resolution and at this point, Clarke had no idea how to tackle what was ravaging her mind.

There were very few things that Clarke had been absolutely positive of in her life. The one thing she could rely on, that she knew to be true, was that Lexa was her soulmate. She wasn't a superstitious or religious person, agnostic at best, but describing Lexa as anything less than her soulmate seemed like an injustice.

The recent nights Clarke had experienced with Lexa were nothing short of extraordinary - but they were also confusing and frightening. Clarke _really_ wanted to believe that Lexa was real, that some unknown force was at work and that somehow Lexa was some mystical, magical being. The truth was though, things like that were impossible and just as Clarke was absolutely sure of how much she loved Lexa, she was also positive that she was going mad.

So there Clarke stood, staring at a white door that towered above her, making her feel inexplicably small. There was a time when she had been confident and secure, but that girl was long gone.

With a deep breath, fists clenched, she knocked.

Minutes passed, Clarke could imagine her hair becoming white and her bones becoming brittle as she patiently but not-so-patiently waited for someone to appear on the other side of the door. She shuffled her feet then inched forward to knock one more time, silently hoping no one was home. As her fisted hand made contact, the door swung open, making Clarke jump in surprise.

“Clarke?”

Marcus Kane. The chief of surgery at the hospital her mother worked at - also her father’s best friend and confidante.

Clarke blanched as her mind suddenly went blank, a thick fog overwhelming the part of her brain that controlled speech. “Um… Abby? My mom?”

“Yeah, sure. She's just upstairs taking a shower. Do you want to come in?” His eyes were wide and his expression was guilty, as if he had been caught in some horrible act. The look made Clarke’s stomach churn.

“Uh, actually..” Clarke muttered and swallowed while staring at her feet as though her shoes were the most interesting shoes she had ever laid her eyes on, “I'll just go. Not a big deal, or anything,” she cleared her throat. “So yeah, tell her to give me a call. I'll um.. see you later,” Clarke looked up briefly to flash him her fakest, most dazzling grin then turned on her heel and marched back to her car.

“Wait, Clarke!” The man yelled, and she stopped briefly to glance back at the man. “You drove all this way, please stay.”

Clarke smiled again, “I was driving through, visiting some friends,” she lied. “I'll just call her later. No big deal, really. I have a test tomorrow anyway,” she shrugged then sprinted back to her car before Dr. Kane could say more.

Clarke gripped the steering wheel as if her life depended on it, knuckles turning white. Everyone was moving on. Why couldn't she?

She drove away, and kept driving until she arrived at an abandoned playground. It was late at night and there wasn't a star in the sky, she imagined the playground was usually filled with life but for now it was peaceful. Clarke laid on the bench, letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Would it always be like this? Everyone told her that time would heal all wounds and she now knew they were talking out of their asses.

She closed her eyes and revelled in the feeling of cool wind gently skating across her exposed skin. The wind surrounded her, an ever present natural force enveloping her in a tender hug she didn't know that she needed.

Soft, long fingers threaded through blonde locks, embracing Clarke’s head on either side. Thumbs gently stroked her head, each stroke exhibiting the utmost care - slow, and kind.

“Lexa,” Clarke sighed. She kept her eyes shut, afraid her daydream would end when her eyes opened.

“Hi, Clarke.”

Clarke choked out a small sob the second the soft voice hit her ears. “What's happening to me, Lexa?” she whispered.

“You're okay, Clarke. You're okay,” Lexa reassured gently. “Open your eyes.”

With a deep breath, Clarke slowly opened her eyes and suddenly time stood still. Lexa’s beautiful eyes met Clarke’s as she sat hunched over the prone blonde, the sorrow and anguish they were experiencing reflected in each other's gaze. Lexa’s shining eyes reminded her of spring, when brown leaves turn to a stunning, vibrant, healthy green. Clarke felt so _alive_ as she just stared, wishing more than anything that her own spring would emerge after such a long winter.

Clarke had no idea how much time had passed when Lexa broke the silence with a rough, audible swallow. Tears streamed down Lexa’s cheeks, the tears transforming the color of her eyes from an elegant malachite to brilliant emerald.  A stray tear landed on Clarke’s forehead, breaking her reverie.

Blinking, Clarke broke their gaze and turned to take in her surroundings. She had just experienced an out of body experience and had trouble finding her bearings. The playground had disappeared, replaced by what seemed to be a small wooden boat with barely enough room for the two of them.

“Lexa? Where are we? What happened?” Clarke’s body began to tremble. The sound of water hitting the hull became louder as Clarke came out of what she thought had been a daydream, but now she thought perhaps she had actually fallen asleep and was now dreaming.

Lexa shook her head, “It's a long story, Clarke, but you're okay. I'll explain soon.” She smiled reassuringly but her vague answer did nothing to quell Clarke’s fears.

Clarke grit her teeth and clenched her fists, her confusion rapidly turning into anger. So much had happened, so much kept happening, and there was only so much one person could handle before they completely broke. Closing her eyes one more time she began to count in an attempt to rid herself of the rage that was building inside of her. When she opened them she took a deep breath and sat up, peering at Lexa who wore an expression that was mixed with confusion and sadness.

No longer quite as bewildered, she was upset to find that she was still on a boat. Clarke could tell she was on some body of water but that was the extent of her knowledge. Everything else was black, it was as if the Earth had flicked a light switch. But Lexa was there, she could see Lexa, and it provided her with a strange sense of comfort that she knew she shouldn't be feeling,

“Okay,” Clarke breathed and steadied herself, straightening her back. She leaned forward and grabbed Lexa’s hand, squeezing it gently while running her thumb over soft knuckles. “Please tell me what's going on, Lexa.”

It was Lexa’s turn to close her eyes, when she opened them there was a fire burning in her gaze that sent a shiver down Clarke's spine. Nodding, she took a breath then bit her lower lip. “Okay,” she agreed. “We have awhile, I'll tell you everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://andwill.tumblr.com


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